The Chart
by HelenaHGWells
Summary: A Rizzles AU crossover with the L Word. Takes place in the R&I world, with the events of the L Word having taken place in Boston/New York. It's two years after Jenny's death, but in no particular time in the R&I world. A string of murders brings Maura's childhood friend Shane back into her life. Their unlikely relationship causes Jane to question her own feelings for Maura
1. Chapter 1: Amy

**Chapter 1: Amy**

Amy Bennett sat straight-backed in the salon chair, her long blonde hair newly styled, swept back elegantly into a loose bun with a few golden tendrils framing her face, her white skin, drained of blood. Her pale blue eyes stared, still wide with surprise but now vacant, her mouth slightly open as if about to protest. Partially dried, sticky trails of dark red stained her white silk shirt, flowing from the gash in her neck, down her arms, across her chest, dripping from her dangling fingers and pooling in the chair and on the floor.

* * *

Jane pulled the car up to the crime scene and Maura exited rapidly, her brow furrowed in consternation as she continued the argument they'd been having.

"Well if you don't want me to grab the wheel perhaps you should pay more attention to the road."

"I was giving the road my full attention- I had things completely under control, Maura."

"You nearly hit that pedestrian."

"Yeah- because you grabbed the goddamn wheel!" Jane's voice rose a defensive octave.

"You had your shirt _over your head_."

Korsak and Frost exchanged a look as the bickering couple reached them.

"I hate it when she undresses and drives," Maura grumbled to Korsak by way of explanation.

"Ah," he responded sympathetically, earning him a glare from Jane. He quickly shifted the conversation. "Body's inside. Vic's name is Amy Bennett. She was found by one of the employees when they opened up this morning. Looks like she was stabbed with a pair of hairdressing scissors."

"That sounds like speculation, Detective Korsak" Maura quickly interjected. "I'll need to do an examination before we can conclude anything definitively."

Ignoring Maura's interruption Jane continued her conversation with Korsak. "She was a client?" she asked as she pulled her dark curls back into a rough ponytail.

Korsak nodded, "A regular. She came in a couple days ago for her usual styling."

"Who needs their hair done twice in a week?" Jane questioned incredulously, giving a disparaging look to the half-manicured customers with their hair in various stages of dressing who were gathered outside the salon.

"_Lez Ciseaux_ is a very elite salon!" Maura responded as Jane grabbed the door with habitual chivalry and followed the medical examiner inside. "I'm sure a lot of their clients frequently attend events and fundraisers where they have to look their best. I've been trying to make an appointment for months but their wait list is so long!"

"Well I'd say it's about to get a damn sight shorter when word gets out that their clientele are being scissored to death," Jane replied wryly.

Frost snorted in amusement and Jane looked over to see Korsak chuckling too.

"What?"

"Nothing, just an... interesting choice of words, all things considered," Frost informed her, still snickering.

"Ok girls, when you're done with your giggling d'you wanna tell me what's going on?" Jane sad in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

Korsak looked shifty. "Oh it's just that a lot of the stylists and clientele are women who prefer female company."

"Really?" Jane looked from one to the other incredulously. "What are you, twelve? C'mon."

Korsak coughed and struggled to regain some professionalism. "Body's this way," he said, leading them into a separate room at the back of the salon.

Blood arced across the three mirrors along the wall facing the salon chairs, originating from the far chair which now sat in a pool of inky blackness.

"That's quite the blood spatter. Must've hit a main artery," Jane remarked as she surveyed the scene, noting a stained pair of hairdressing scissors sitting on the stand next to the chair. "That the murder weapon?"

"Well I couldn't possibly say definitively at this stage," Maura prefaced as she examined the wound in the woman's neck, ignoring Janes sigh of frustration. "However it would appear that she was stabbed with an extremely sharp, narrow blade. The width and depth of the wound would seem to be consistent with a pair of scissors, but i'll have to run further tests to say for sure."

Jane rolled her eyes at this characteristic unwillingness to state the obvious. "God forbid we should jump to any conclusions."

"It would seem that the wound was inflicted from a high angle, directly above the victim," Maura extrapolated, standing behind the chair and raising her arm to demonstrate, "and the weapon was brought down swiftly with a high degree of force and accuracy."

"Easy there Hitchcock," Jane raised an eyebrow at the perhaps slightly too enthusiastic stabbing demonstration.

"Oh no this wasn't a frenzied attack," Maura corrected. "There's just one stab wound, which suggests targeted premeditation."

"That would be your guess?" Jane needled her, barely suppressing a smirk.

Maura just narrowed her eyes and refused to take the bait. "Based on the _evidence_, I would surmise that this was not a crime of passion. Inflicting a wound like this would require a well-practiced hand. It looks like the weapon struck the subclavian artery."

Jane raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Oh yes of course, the subclavian." She prompted when Maura didn't elaborate, "And that's important because..."

"It's a very difficult artery to hit," Maura explained, ignoring Jane's impatient tone. "It's the junction of the neck and the clavicle, and so it's protected by the clavicle and the first rib," she indicated on her own exposed neck and chest where the artery would run. "Difficult to target but almost impossible to recover from without a trauma team standing by. She would have bled out in under a minute."

"Huh..." Jane mused, looking quickly away from Maura's chest, where her gaze had lingered a little too long after the demonstration. "So we're looking for a professional."

"Someone with close combat training," Maura agreed.

And the ability to wield a pair of scissors for styling as well as stabbing," Jane indicated the perfectly coifed victim. "Who found her?"

Frost checked his notepad. "Mandy Tyson. She's out front with a uni making a statement. The other girls were getting their clients started in the main salon and she found the vic when she came back here to get the room set up for colouring. Said when she cleaned up last night everything was fine. Everyone left as usual and she locked up around 9."

"I'd estimate time of death at somewhere around eight hours," Maura chipped in.

"So sometime after lockup last night, Amy Bennett showed up, had her hair done, and was stabbed in the neck by a professional hitman-stylist?" Jane frowned as she walked back to the front of the salon with Frost and Korsak, leaving Maura to finish examining the body.

Frost quickly located the stylist who had found the victim and she was relayed the details of the gruesome discovery to the detectives.

"Is it common for clients to come to the salon after hours?" Jane asked her.

"Only if they come to see Shane," the woman snorted derisively.

"Shane?" Jane asked.

"Shane McCutcheon," Frost clarified, flipping through his notebook, "the manager."

He nodded over to where a tall woman was talking to a uniform. She was raking a hand through her short dark hair and shifting nervously she she spoke, crossing and uncrossing her arms.

"You don't like her?" Jane turned back to the stylist, referencing her tone.

"Oh yea, everyone _loves _Shane. The owner loved her so much she bought her this salon," the woman smiled bitterly and shook her head. "You work your ass off to land a new client, and then they meet Shane, and bam. Suddenly they're only interested in Shane touching their hair- and I don't think it's just her styling skills they're interested in."

Just then Maura entered the main salon and stopped suddenly, her eyes narrowed, head cocked. Jane frowned trying to figure out what had caught her attention as Maura started to walk purposefully towards the salon manager.

"Maur...?" Jane stared as her friend walked past without explanation.

The skinny woman talking to the officer glanced up as Maura approached, and Jane saw her demeanour change completely as a look of surprised recognition crossed her face.

"Maura?" she exclaimed, the uniform taking her statement forgotten as a wide smile spread across her face and she stepped forward to envelop Maura in a bear hug.

Jane exchanged puzzled looks with Frost and Korsak.

"Looks like your friend is just as taken with our Shane as everyone else," Mandy laughed, humorlessly.

Frowning, Jane quickly turned back to where the star-stylist was standing with Maura. She noted the hand that lingered on Maura's hip, and that Maura's hand remained on the woman's arm, though she pulled back as Jane approached and moved to allow the detective to join the conversation, still smiling broadly.

"Friend of yours?" Jane asked with a tense smile. She wasn't a fan of Maura's habit of hugging suspects.

"Jane, this is Shane, we're old school friends!" Maura explained excitedly.

"Elite private boarding school?" Jane clarified, doubtfully taking in Shane's tousled short hair, her untucked white shirt rolled up to the elbows to reveal tattooed arms, and her faded black jeans. Jane raised an eyebrow at Maura, who could not have looked like a more unlikely companion in her knee-length maroon designer dress, tailored blazer and $600 heels.

Shane picked up on Jane's incredulity. "No, I went to a shitty public school," she smiled knowingly at Maura, "when I actually _went _to school. Some of the private school kids would come in once a week to do their bit for the poor, underprivileged members of society. You know- try to make up for massive underfunding and structural inequality by donating their years of prep-school wisdom to the needy."

Shane gave Maura a knowing smile. "I think most of those kids got the shit kicked out of them the first week and never came back. Except Maura- she showed up every week. Tutored me in chemistry. Pretty sure she's the only reason I stayed in school as long as I did."

"Oh it was the least I could do! You spent so long styling my hair. Shane was always wonderful at doing hair." Maura continued the story for Jane's benefit, but was gazing at Shane in a way that made the detective shift uncomfortably.

"That's probably why I stuck with the tutoring, to be honest. You always had beautiful long hair," Shane responded, her voice low and suggestive. She reached out to brush a lock of Maura's gold tresses back from her eyes and murmured, "You look great, by the way".

Shane was all unselfconscious swagger and ease. Maura smiled bashfully.

"And now you're the manager of an elite salon with a dead client in your colouring room!" Jane said loudly, breaking the tension.

Maura gave Jane a look which the detective ignored

"Yea this is..." Shane clasped her hands together on top of her head as she surveyed the scene, exhaling deeply. "I just can't believe it. Amy was such a sweet woman- I can't believe anyone would want to hurt her."

"How well did you know the victim?"

"She's been coming to the salon for about a year. She was one of Stacey's clients originally but she recently switched to me."

"Stacey didn't mind you taking her clients?" Jane asked.

Shane shrugged. "The clients usually get what they want."

"From what I hear, Amy wasn't the first to switch over to you. You have a bit of a reputation for taking on the other girls' clients."

Shane studied Jane for a moment, before narrowing her eyes and responding evenly, "Maybe they just prefer what I do for them."

Jane was unphased. "And what exactly do you 'do' for them?"

Shane just smiled in response. Jane's face tightened, irritated. "Were you sleeping with the victim?"

"We hooked up a few times, yeah."

"And do you offer the full service to all your clients?"

"Jane!" Maura butted in, shocked.

Shane just smiled. "I'm a professional, detective. I didn't come from much, but I worked hard to get to where I am. I'm sure someone like you can appreciate that."

"Someone like me?"

"I get the feeling this isn't so much your crowd either," Shane nodded towards the cluster of salon clients in designer clothes just like Maura's, clutching their bags and delicately dabbing at their eyes as they surveyed the scene in scandalized horror.

Jane turned back to Shane, irritated at being put in her place, as the stylist continued.

"A lot of beautiful women patronize this salon. I like beautiful women; I like to make them feel beautiful. They come in here wanting to feel better about themselves and they leave happy and confident. And sometimes if we get along, we might see each other outside of work."

"You ever meet clients here after hours?"

"Not Amy."

"And where were you last night?" Jane took a slightly menacing step closer. Maura eyed her warily.

"At The Planet. It's a bar downtown. My friend was doing a show there. Went home with my roommates around 2."

"We're gonna need some names," Jane responded, not breaking her steely gaze.

"I was just giving them to this nice gentleman here," Shane indicated the uni who was hovering nervously. "If that's all, I've got a business to try and rescue, and I have to tell the owner about this mess."

"We'll need to speak with her as well."

"Fine," Shane sighed impatiently. "I've given you all the details. Do what you gotta do."

Shane's dismissive tone grated on Jane. "Don't go anywhere Ms. McCutcheon." She started to encourage Maura back towards the car with a hand on her back. "C'mon Maura, you've got an autopsy to do."

"It's good to see you, Maur," Shane called after them. "I'll call you."

Maura smiled bashfully again.

"Really?" Jane muttered as soon as they were out of earshot. Maura just looked confused as Jane rolled her eyes and stomped back to the car.

* * *

They drove back to the station in silence, Maura smiling to herself. She hadn't seen Shane since they were children. It had been years since she'd even thought of her. And yet here she was in Boston, that skinny little runaway kid who would sneak out of her abusive foster parents' house and into Maura's, hiding from Ms. Patterson, the austere and distant nanny who would take care of her during her parents' long trips away. She and Shane had forged an unlikely friendship; two scared and lonely teenagers, one isolated by her awkwardness and introversion, the other too hostile and feral for anyone to get close to. Something about Maura's clumsily expressed sincerity had spoken to Shane, whose prickly exterior sheltered a warm heart and a scarred soul. Maura had everything, and Shane had nothing, but they were both still so alone. Seeing that in each other brought understanding, compassion, and a tentative closeness.

Maura would go to bed at night in her big empty house, breathless with anticipation, waiting to see if she'd hear the familiar patter of stones bouncing off her window, signalling for her to slink downstairs in stealthy slippered feet, muscles tensed for any sound of the house stirring, heart pumping, adrenaline coursing through her veins in anticipation of the forbidden liaison, and in fear of the state Shane might arrive in. Often she would wear a triumphant grin when Maura quietly unlatched the back door to let her confidently swagger in, and they'd sneak back upstairs and Maura would gleefully smother her giggles as Shane regaled her with the exaggerated tales of latest jailbreak.

But once or twice she had been quiet, fearful, even bloodstained. And Maura, heartbroken for her friend, had scooped her up and led her upstairs to bed, where she stroked Shane's hair and whispered softly til she fell asleep, grateful for the trust that was placed in her, for the secret they shared, for the kinship in an otherwise lonely existence.

Jane worried her lip as she drove, glancing over at Maura who was simply smiling dreamily. Finally she couldn't take the silence any more.

"So Shane's a character," Jane's voice cut into Maura's thoughts.

Maura smiled, "Yes she is."

"Her clients certainly seem to like her," Jane continued, a raw nerve sounding in her voice.

"She's quite the charmer," Maura responded simply. She seemed about to fall silent again but then she smiled broadly. "I haven't seen her in years. Not since we were about thirteen years old. She used to sneak into my house at night and we'd have sleepovers."

"What did your parents think of that?" Jane asked knowingly.

"Oh they were never around. They were often away on various trips. But even when they were home they didn't really notice who I spent time with."

Jane couldn't help herself. "Maura, you two didn't...?"

"What? No!" Maura looked appalled and Jane felt relief flooding through her. "We were children!"

Ok maybe not so relieved. "So what does that mean, that you would've if you'd been older?"

"She was my best friend." Even with her eyes fixed on the road Jane could hear Maura rolling her eyes, but then her tone became almost wistful. "She was my only friend. We were both... very lonely. And I didn't know what I wanted then- we were so young. I was just glad I'd found someone who seemed to understand me."

Maura became quiet again and Jane risked a glance. Her friend wore a nostalgic expression and looked very far away. It gave Jane an odd sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She started to worry her lip again.


	2. Chapter 2: Cherie

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who's waited patiently for the second installment. I am so appreciative of the follows and the feedback :) Let me know what you think of chapter two._

* * *

**Chapter ****2: Cherie**

Back at the station, Jane was sitting at her desk sifting through the witness reports they'd gathered from the crime scene. Maura had gone to start the autopsy, a dreamy look in her eye as she'd headed for the basement. Jane stared off into the distance, brooding.

"Earth to Rizzoli," Frost's voice cut into her thoughts.

"Huh? What's up?" Jane snapped back to the present and looked up to where her partner was indicating his computer screen.

"Our superstar Shane has a history."

Jane rounded the desk and stood peering over his shoulder, reading a rap sheet as long as her arm.

"Assault, possession, solicitation, DUIs, missed court dates... Oh yeah she's one to bring home to meet your mother," Korsak intoned.

"And that's not even the best part. Take a look at this," Frost opened up another screen.

"She was investigated for murder?" Jane frowned, surprised. "Two years ago in New York- victim was Jennifer Schecter, her ex-girlfriend."

"Yea, she was cleared though," Frost went on. "Sounds like a real mess of a case. Seven primary suspects, all with motive and opportunity, none with a solid alibi, all at the crime scene on the night of the murder. They charged an Alice Pieszecki, but the evidence was shaky at best."

"What a gong show," said Korsak, shaking his head as he read over the report. "Sloppy police work. Wouldn't cut it in our shop."

"Well, I'd say this calls for a bit of a chat with Ms. McCutcheon," Jane said, grabbing her blazer from the back of her chair as Frost stood to go with her.

But Frankie arrived before they could get anywhere.

"Jane, there's another body- the owner of the salon. Unis called it in when they went to her house to bring her in for questioning."

"Same MO?" Jane asked.

Frankie shook his head. "Doesn't sound like it- they said she was strangled."

"Alright, well I'll get Maura," Jane said, starting for the elevator. "I'll meet you guys there?"

"Sure," Korsak grabbed his keys. "What was the owner's name again?"

Frost checked his notebook. "Cherie Jaffe."

* * *

The second crime scene of the day was so different from the first that Jane was ready to believe it was a bizarre coincidence that both seemed to be linked by the salon. Cherie Jaffe's large and elaborate home had been turned upside down in what appeared to be a violent struggle. Her body lay in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by scattered books, a table upended, china shattered, the furniture pushed back or knocked away. No blood was immediately obvious, a contrast to that morning's sea of red and expressionist splatter. A thin cord hung loose around the woman's limp neck. Her blue eyes were wide and staring.

Familiarity tugged at Jane. She turned to her partner. "She look like this morning's victim to you?"

Frost turned his head to get a better look. "Yeah, kinda. Similar colouring, same hair and eyes."

"Same clothes too," Jane noted, indicating the woman's pale blouse and dark pants.

"'Bout the only thing that is similar," Frost replied, echoing her earlier thoughts as he surveyed the room. "These crime scenes are like night and day."

"Just spoke to the husband," Korsak said as he joined them. "She's the wife of studio head Steve Jaffe. He was at a meeting in New York for the last two days- didn't get back til this afternoon." He indicated behind him to where a distraught-looking man with silver hair was talking to an officer, his arm clutched around a young woman who bore a strong resemblance to the dead woman on the floor.

"That the daughter?" Jane asked

Korsak nodded. "She got here not long after the uniforms called it in. She'd just arrived home from college."

"Any connection between Jaffe and Bennett, besides the salon?"

"Not so far," Korsak replied. "The husband says he's never heard of Bennett. She was a hot-shot lawyer, no connection to his studio. I'll do some digging when we get back to the station."

"Any enemies? Any threats?"

Korsak shrugged. "Not that he's owning up to."

Jane frowned as she turned back to the body. "Two completely different murders, different weapons, both within hours of each other, and the only obvious connection is a high-end hair salon... It's too much of a coincidence that Jaffe gets whacked the same day as a woman is murdered at her business. But why would someone be taking out Boston socialites?"

"No sign of forced entry," Frost offered.

"None at the salon either," Jane mused. "So our perp either had a key, or the victims knew him."

"I'm not sure our killer is a man, Jane," Maura finally spoke from where she had been crouched next to the body.

Jane looked unconvinced. "But strangulations are typically carried out by men- the difference in size and strength means the woman can be easily overpowered."

"Yes, usually that is the case. Asphyxiation through strangulation creates a condition called hypoxia in which the body is deprived of an adequate oxygen supply, creating the feeling of being literally starved of oxygen. It's sometimes referred to as 'air hunger', and it will cause the victim to struggle violently-"

"To fight for their life," Jane extrapolated, nodding.

"Yes exactly," Maura agreed. "Women being typically smaller in size and strength are not usually able to maintain control long enough to actually render the victim unconscious."

"So we're looking for a man," Jane repeated her earlier conclusion.

"Not necessarily. There's obvious signs of a violent struggle-"

"Right, _as she fought for her life_." Jane was growing impatient with the circular discussion.

Maura ignored her friend's tone and continued to walk through her deduction. "But the victim isn't a big woman- and yet from the state of this room it seems she managed to put up a valiant fight. And look at these ligature marks on her neck."

Jane crouched down next to Maura and peered at the two distinct lines of bruising on Cherie Jaffe's pale skin.

"It's like, the perp had to have two attempts..." She was starting to see where the doctor was going.

Maura nodded. "And here," she indicated a purplish welt on the victim's temple. "The shape of this mark is not consistent with an impact with a table or desk on the way down. She was struck with something... something round."

Jane cast her eyes about the room and spotted a large paperweight that lay under the desk with a variety of other objects that had scattered in the struggle.

"Something like that?"

Maura peered at the paperweight and checked the wound for size. "It's possible."

"Bag that and check for prints," Jane pointed at a lab tech. She began to pace the room as she thought aloud. "So the perp gets the ligature around her neck, but Jaffe fights back and the perp loses control. The blow was enough to stun her temporarily, giving him or her time to have a second try at strangulation," Jane mused, frowning at the scene as she bit her lip and twirled a lock of hair thoughtfully. "So not a professional. Whoever did this, they'd never strangled someone before. They didn't know how hard it was gonna be. How hard she'd fight. They had to immobilize her before they could get the job done."

She turned back to her friend. "Maura you said the stabbing wasn't emotional?"

"No no, Jane, I said it wasn't frenzied, I didn't say it wasn't motivated by passion."

Jane frowned in thought. "Close quarters, and woman on woman... means it's personal."

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a commotion outside. The detectives turned to see Steve Jaffe in the driveway, yelling and gesticulating wildly while his daughter screamed obscenities from the porch at...

"Shane?" Maura said softly.

The tall wiry woman was running towards the house, her face a mask of panic. Steve Jaffe intercepted her quickly and Jane and Frost bolted for the door, Frost running to help a uniform restrain the husband while Jane tried to cut off Shane.

"What the _hell _are you doing here?" the husband was thundering. "What that _hell _do you think you're doing? This is _my _property! She is _my _wife! You have no right!"

Shane barely seemed to hear him; her focus was on the house. She didn't even seem to see Jane, just swatted at her as she tried to get through. Jane put her hands on the woman's shoulders and pushed her back, trying to get the woman to acknowledge her; trying to calm her down. The contact seemed to jar Shane into the present. She locked eyes with Jane, her expression wild and fierce.

"Where is she?" she demanded. "_Where is she_?"

She pushed the detective with surprising force and Jane stumbled back enough for Shane to push past, and she was running again towards the house, shoving the now-shrieking daughter aside and barreling inside.

"Shane _stop_!" Jane yelled as she took off after her. "This is a crime scene, you can't go in there!"

She reached the entranceway in time to see Shane tearing towards the living room, as Maura reached out and caught Shane's arm. The woman's step faltered and Maura positioned herself between Shane and the room where lab techs were still busily foraging about, logging and documenting and taking samples.

"Shane, you can't," Maura said quietly but firmly. "You can't disturb the evidence."

Shane still appeared to be in a blind panic, eyes now locked on Cherie's lifeless form, but she stopped at Maura's touch. Maura pushed her back, gently, speaking to her softly. "She's gone. I'm so sorry, Shane. You can't go in there. I'm so sorry."

Shane tore her gaze away and finally looked at Maura. Huge blue eyes, frozen in disbelief. "I'm so sorry," Maura whispered, trying to convey as much feeling as she could in these empty and inadequate words.

Jane watched as Shane crumpled into Maura's arms. Maura eased her down and wrapped herself around the lanky frame that shook with wrenching sobs, face buried in Maura's neck, hands balled into fists that gripped at Maura's jacket.

Jane frowned uncertainly, suddenly feeling like an intruder in a private moment. It was unusual for Maura to be so physical with anyone except, well, Jane. The doctor was usually so detached, so professional. Even with Frost and Korsak, of whom she was very fond, she would manage little more than a pat on the arm. Angela might get a hug, but then there was no arguing with Angela.

Jane turned back towards the husband in the driveway, who was roughly shaking off the restraining hands of Frost and Korsak. Hesitating, she looked back to where Maura sat on the dirty entranceway floor in her Alexander McQueen dress, as her shoulder was soaked by the tears of her friend. And then Jane strode back outside.

The husband was red-faced and spitting as Jane walked up. "That _bitch_!" he yelled. "She has no right! She is _my _wife!"

Jane pulled Frost aside, Steve Jaffe's vitriol triggering something in her memory. "Hey, didn't that stylist- Mandy? Didn't she say that the salon owner had bought the business _for Shane_?"

Frost quickly caught onto her line of thought. "You think Jaffe and Shane were involved?"

Jane nodded, turning back to look at the house. "Judging from Shane's reaction in there, I'd say it was pretty serious."

They watched as Maura and Shane reappeared on the porch, Maura's arms still wrapped around the other woman as she coaxed her out. Frost and Korsak immediately moved to block the husband as he stepped forward with renewed conviction.

"Mr. Jaffe," Jane spoke to him firmly. "Why don't you go to your daughter. We're almost done here- we'll be out of your way as soon as we can." The man looked over to where his daughter was now sobbing quietly. Jane softened her tone, adding "I'm so sorry for your loss." But he only glared quickly over at Shane who was now being led by Maura back down the driveway, giving the man a wide berth. He stalked back towards the house.

Jane, Frost and Korsak breathed a collective sigh, brows raised.

"We can finish processing the rest of the house," Frost spoke to Jane. "I'll let you deal with the firecracker over there."

Jane pulled a face as he and Korsak made their way back inside. Then she turned to look at Shane, who was leaning back against her truck, breathing heavily as Maura rubbed her shoulders. This intimate behaviour bothered Jane. For all they knew, Shane and and Jaffe could have argued and fought, with things getting heated and Shane strangling the woman. Or perhaps Cherie had become jealous of Shane and Amy, and stabbed the other socialite, provoking Shane into an act of revenge. Or maybe Amy had killed Cherie, and so Shane had gone after Amy. One thing was for sure- Shane was the only link between the two murders. She was right in the middle of this mess.

Jaw set, she walked purposefully towards Maura and her suspect. Maura looked up as she approached.

"Ms. McCutcheon?"

Maura frowned at Jane's formal tone.

"I'm gonna need to ask you a few questions."

Shane looked up at her with a bleary, eyeliner-smudged stare. "Yea, sure."

"Were you romantically involved with the victim?"

Jane felt Maura bristle, though she wasn't sure if it was from the question or her tone.

Shane sighed; she looked tired. "I was. Not any more. We were seeing each other for a while, a few years back. And then again, off and on. You know..."

"And I take it her husband didn't know about this?"

"Her ex-husband," Shane spat out. "And he's an ass. 'I have no right'? What right does he have? She divorced the entitled little shit years ago. He's only even allowed here because of Clea. He's pissed because he lost the house. And his investment seeing as most of the money was hers."

"Money wouldn't be a motive for him then- that ship had sailed. What about the daughter? She'd stand to inherit."

Maura frowned at Jane's callousness. Jane felt the disapproval with a twinge of guilt, but refused to look at her, instead focusing her steely gaze on the pale brunette.

Shane was shaking her head. "No, Clea loved her mom. Things were rocky for a while back there, but they got over it."

"When you were sleeping with her mother?" Jane's voice was unsympathetic. She felt Maura bristle again.

Shane mustered a half-hearted glare. "She got over it."

"And what about you?" Jane continued probing. "Maybe you were tired of taking orders from your ex and you wanted control of your business. Or, you didn't seem so bothered about Amy Bennett's murder. Maybe your fuckbuddy got jealous and strangled Cherie, and you took Amy out for revenge?"

Shane stood up straight, drawing herself to her full height so her eyes were level with Jane's, defiant.

"Where were you last night?" Jane didn't flinch as Shane took a step closer.

"I told you. I was at the Planet for a show. Then I went home with my roommates. I guess you haven't bothered to check with them yet."

"Oh don't worry, I'll get right on that", Jane growled in response.

Shane took another step forward so they stood toe to toe. "You do that. And then when you're done wasting everyone's time, maybe you can start figuring out who the fuck did this to Cherie."

Shane turned back to her truck and yanked open the door, causing Maura to step out of the way quickly as the engine revved and she peeled away.

"Well, it looks like I have a date with a gay bar," Jane said to Maura, easily.

When her friend didn't respond Jane turned to find Maura glaring at her. Jane's eyebrows shot up defensively. "What?"

"You know what." Maura's voice was thick with emotion.

"Maura, she's the only thing connecting these two murders. She's involved in some way."

"You didn't have to be so _aggressive_." Maura threw the word like an accusation.

Heat crept up Jane's neck and her eyes flashed with anger. "She's a _suspect_."

"She didn't do anything, Jane. I know her. Shane simply is not capable of hurting anyone."

"Oh, well if you're going to vouch for her then... Oh wait, what happened last time you swore blind that an old friend wasn't a murderer? Oh yes! It turned out he killed his brother."

Maura felt her heart rate increase at the personal slight. "That was completely different! Shane is nothing like Garrett Fairfield!"

"Why, because Garrett came from money and Shane didn't come from shit?"

Jane wasn't sure why she sounded so disparaging of Shane's background. She couldn't stand Maura's elitist connections. And she certainly couldn't stand Garrett Fairfield.

"Sorry Maura, but a character reference from you doesn't hold a whole lot of weight."

Why was she being so mean? She wasn't upset with Maura. And there was no way Maura could have known about Garrett. Still, she should have trusted Jane's instincts then, and she should be trusting them now. Hadn't she earned that? Hadn't they worked on enough cases together in the last four years for Jane's gut to merit the benefit of the doubt, rather than some skinny hipster lesbian that Maura had- had what? Been friends with as a teenager? Been... involved with? The familiarity with which Maura had behaved with Shane hit her again like a slap to the face.

Maura was seething. "Well of course! What does a character reference from the daughter of a mob boss mean to a decorated detective? Clearly my good judgement is tainted by my association with lowlifes and criminals!"

Jane was already regretting having spoken so hastily and in anger. But Maura was fuming. "Frankly I'm surprised, Jane, that you would allow your mother to stay in my guesthouse. That you would allow me to babysit your nephew. Since you _clearly _disapprove of the company I keep."

Jane took a deep breath, trying to make her tone soothing, mentally working through a list of possible ways to placate her friend.

"Maura," she began, still unable to keep an edge of exasperation out of her voice, "it's not that you're 'tainted by association', and of course I'm happy for you to spend time with my mom or with T.J. You're a wonderful person and they love you. But..." she grasped for the best phrasing, "sometimes... you aren't the best judge of character."

Maura's eyebrows shot up and Jane immediately tried to eat her words. "What I mean it that you don't have the best instincts..." That was all wrong too.

"Because I don't listen to my intestines?"

Jane groaned, frustrated.

"You're right, Jane, I listen to my _heart_."

Jane couldn't help but smile at the suspension of logic that it must have required for her friend to admit to listening to _any _of her organs.

"Exactly," she responded, taking Maura's hands and bending a little so she had to look up at the doctor, submissive, supplicating. "You have a big heart, Maura. You see the good in people. And maybe... that makes it harder for you to see the bad. To see what people are really capable of."

"I work with death every day, Jane," she said coolly, though she didn't pull back her hands. "I understand exactly what people are capable of."

"You work with victims. To you the perps are faceless strangers," Jane corrected. "Murderers you might never even see, let alone really know. To you, they're not the people around you- maybe even people you trust. You don't... have objectivity here."

Maura remained hard, impassive. "Maybe that's a good thing. All you see is a suspect. But you don't _know _her like I do, Jane. I know she could never do this. Not Shane."

Jane dropped her friend's hands and ran her fingers through her tangled black curls, rubbing her forehead as she closed her eyes and took a steadying breath, willing herself not to snap.

It was Maura's turn to step forward with a conciliatory gesture. "Jane, I trust you" she looked up into large brown eyes that softened immediately. "Why can't you trust me?" Brown eyes hardened again at the renewed defense.

"Because you're _wrong_, Maura."

The doctor stepped back, still holding Jane's gaze but pressing her lips together as if trying to fight back a response, or perhaps in resignation. Jane immediately felt the urge to reach out, but, the lines now drawn, Maura quickly turned on her heel and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3: The Big Freeze

**A/N: It's been so long since I posted anything- I'm so sorry guys! Getting the creative juices flowing again I promise. Thanks for sticking with me :)**

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Big Freeze**

Processing the crime scene had taken up the next few hours; Maura had gone back to the lab after her spat with Jane, to start Cherie Jaffe's autopsy and check on the test results for Amy Bennett. Frost and Korsak had carefully avoided commenting on the doctor's stoney silence, or Jane's tense expression and the way she rubbed at the scars on her hands as she walked around the living room, mentally reconstructing the events that may have lead to Jaffe's death. A clock, knocked from a table in the deadly struggle, had given them time of death, its face broken and hands stuck at 11:25. This put Jaffe's death in the same window as Bennett's, according to the estimation Maura had been willing to commit to. But they really needed a more accurate time of death before they could know if it was even possible for one killer to take out Bennett, and then run across town to attack Jaffe, or the other way around. And if they were looking for two killers, motive was going to start to get messy.

But the details would remain a mystery until Maura had finished the autopsies, and Jane didn't really feel like standing over a body slowly cajoling an unwilling and irritable Maura towards some decisive conclusions. So Jane had returned to the office to draw up a rough timeline, a list of witnesses, and check alibis. By late afternoon Shane was still the only obvious connection and the most likely suspect, and Jane was getting ready to head to The Planet to check the woman's alibi when Maura appeared in the office.

"I'm coming with you," Maura said firmly.

Jane felt a little glow of satisfaction, but she wasn't sure that having the doctor present to check Shane's alibi was the best idea.

"Thanks Maura, but I don't need you to come with me. I'd rather you finished Cherie Jaffe's autopsy."

"And I'd rather be sure that you approach this interview with objectivity and an open mind," Maura curtly replied, ignoring Jane's immediately furrowed brow. "And the autopsies are finished. We're just waiting on lab results now."

"Do you have a time of death for me?" Jane asked as she wondered whether it would be worth fighting Maura on this, given that her friend rarely seemed to lose these arguments.

"11:25 would be consistent with Jaffe's state of rigor," Maura confirmed. "I can't be any more specific about Bennett, however."

"So, we don't know anything more than we did already?" Jane sighed.

Maura seemed to take the comment as a personal affront and she stiffened as she replied, "We have forensic confirmation of your _educated guesses_," Jane frowned at Maura's tone. "We might also have some DNA."

"What?" Jane's eyes went wide. "DN- Maur- Why didn't you start with that?"

"I'm simply giving you the information in order. If you choose to jump to conclusions-"

"Ok, alright Maura" Jane quickly cut her friend off. "Tell me about the DNA."

Maura gave the detective a stern look and flipped through the results in the file she was holding.

"I found a small amount of skin on the ligature that was used on Cherie Jaffe, likely from a friction burn as the attacker strangled the victim. Definitely female."

"So the attacker strangled her with bare hands? Then why didn't we find any prints at the scene?" Jane frowned. "Except from Jaffe and the family."

"Maybe the attacker wore gloves but couldn't keep a grip on the ligature, so they took them off?" Frost offered. "That might explain the two attempts?"

"Did you run it through CODIS?" Korsak asked.

"No match," Maura responded. " But we may also have DNA from Bennett. I found what appears to be vaginal fluid on her skirt. Susie's running some tests."

"So she had sex before she died- at the salon?" Jane mused as she turned to give Frost and Korsak a significant look. "Who does that sound like...?"

Maura sighed audibly and Jane looked over to see her friend glaring at her. "Like I said, Susie's running some tests. I'll let you know if we recover anything that can be used for DNA comparison," Maura informed her.

"Well if it's Shane she'll flag a match- she's got a rap sheet as long as my arm," Korsak observed.

"Even if she isn't a match, it doesn't mean she's not the killer," Jane pointed out. "Maybe she walked in on Bennett with someone else and attacked her out of jealousy."

"How about you _check her alibi _before your lock her up and throw away the key!" Maura all-but exploded, causing the detectives to stare in surprise. "Or is 'guilty until proven innocent' the motto of Boston Homicide? And there's still nothing tying her to Cherie Jaffe's murder, although we do have _someone else's_ DNA on the murder weapon, if you feel like perhaps looking into that avenue of investigation."

She dropped the file on Jane's desk and stalked over to the elevator, roughly jabbing the 'down' button as she barked, "Come on Jane!"

"Where are we going...?" Jane asked uncertainly, thoroughly put in her place.

"To The Planet!" her friend replied, stepping into the elevator as Jane followed sheepishly behind her. "And I'm driving."

Jane shot Frost and Korsak a look of panic as the elevator doors closed on them. Frost smothered a laugh.

"Is it bad that I find it so amusing when they're fighting?" he said to Korsak.

"Oh, only if Jane ever finds out that you take such joy in her misery," the older man warned, grinning as Frost quickly wiped the smile off his face.

* * *

The drive to The Planet was agony. Maura stared stonily ahead, refusing to engage Jane in conversation despite the detective's efforts to thaw her friend's frosty exterior. Jane wasn't used to being so at odds with Maura; it had only happened a few times before, usually when Jane felt Maura was choosing to back someone else instead of her. Like Garret Fairfield. Or Ian Faulkner. Or even Paddy Doyle.

Actually she'd felt really bad about Paddy- shooting her best friend's father was never something she'd intended, and Maura had every right to be furious that Jane's speaking to Agent Dean had resulted in him crashing the sting.

But now that she thought about it, she and Maura were pretty much always on the same page til some man came onto the scene and mixed everything up, upsetting their delicate balance; causing them to question who was loyal to who, who had whose back, who could be trusted. Now it seemed that a woman could do that too. Jane bit her lip. Everything felt so off when she didn't know where she stood with Maura, when their routine was interrupted. She felt so... adrift.

Maura stared resolutely at the road, trying to sort through her thoughts and separate the rational from the emotional. She desperately wanted to prove Shane's innocence; she was quite sure the woman could have nothing to do with either of these murders, she simply didn't have it in her. While logically it was true that she hadn't seen Shane since they were teenagers, and a lot could happen to a person in that time, a lot that could change them, from what Maura had seen so far Shane still seemed to be the same big-hearted, posturing, scared little kid she'd always known. And the evidence was so far from being conclusive.

Yet Jane seemed determined to pin this on Shane. Maura gripped the wheel harder in frustration. Jane could be so goddamn stubborn. So _emotional_. And she'd disliked Shane from the moment they met- Maura had picked up on that right away. The way Jane's face had hardened, how she'd given Shane that Rizzoli stare, how her voice had become a little lower.

And Maura knew it was related to her. Jane did not like it when Maura had a strong attachment to someone else. It was like it caused her friend to suddenly question their whole relationship; as if Maura didn't have room in her heart for more than one person. As if Maura would decide that spending time with Jane wasn't so great after all and she'd move onto the next shiny new toy. It infuriated Maura that Jane could think she was so fickle. It hurt her to think that Jane could doubt their relationship so easily.

Jane just held onto people so much more tightly than Maura. Perhaps it was because Maura had always moved around so much and her family wasn't always available to her. She was used to relationships that were transient. People leave; that's ok. Whereas Jane's family had always been so close; born and raised in Boston, always staying nearby. And now they were like her family too...

Maura caught herself smiling and quickly rearranged her features into an emotionless mask, stealing a glance at Jane to see if she'd noticed.

Jane glanced over at the same time and caught Maura's eye.

Busted. They both quickly looked away.


End file.
